


sunkissed

by dreamtowns



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Noctis Lives, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Light Language, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 03:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamtowns/pseuds/dreamtowns
Summary: In the wake of a sunrise, Noctis watches Prompto sleep.





	sunkissed

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Final Fantasy XV. All rights reserved to its developers: Square Enix. All that is mine is the plot of this story in particular and any original characters introduced. No copyright infringement intended. No money is being made from this work. This is purely for entertainment purposes.
> 
> Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors!
> 
> It’s midterm week. *Cries into my laptop* 
> 
> So here’s some fluff!!

When the softest hint of dawn broke through the curtains, Noctis woke to a piece of Prompto’s hair in his mouth. On a typical night, it’d be pretty difficult for Prompto’s hair to get inside his mouth considering the short style his husband sported, but through the night, Prompto ended up halfway atop Noctis; face pressed in the crook of Noctis’ neck.

Well—Noctis certainly wasn’t complaining. His limbs and squished organs definitely voiced their opinion, but—oh well. Prompto was _warm_, alright; it was a crime to not let Prompto be the human octopus that he was when he slept.

He wrapped an arm—his left pinned beneath most of Prompto’s body—around Prompto’s waist and made himself more comfortable as his newfound status as Prompto’s pillow. It was an occupation he’d gladly have for the rest of his days.

Prompto hadn’t even twitched as Noctis maneuvered him around. Endearing, really—and a little concerning, how much of a deadweight statue Prompto became when he slept.

His breath tickled the curve of Noctis’ neck. Small puffs of warm air brushed over his skin, and it made Noctis shiver at the feeling. Prompto made a soft noise and his sleep seemed to deepen. Noctis wished he could be in that position, but—well, the duties of a king never ended, his father liked to say.

But, by the gods, Prompto looked divine in the morning: a golden halo curled around his slumbering form, the rising sun kissing his freckled skin in a way that always made Noctis breathless to observe, nose scrunched in sleep as Carbuncle took him on adventure after adventure in dreamland.

For a few moments, Noctis stared at Prompto in slumber, and wonder if he would ever get tired of such a sight. He snorted after a pause, thinking about all the teasing he’d receive from Gladio, from Ignis, from _Iris, _if they were ever aware of how utterly gone he was for the man using him as a pillow.

Noctis would never get tired of waking next to Prompto. It would be blasphemous. Treason. Sacrilege.

(he wondered, at times, if it could be considered blasphemy, the way he loved prompto so much, so tenderly, so wholly, it stole his breath away yet gave him oxygen all the same;

the way he worshipped his husband under the moonlight, kissed and sewn his old scars with the devotion dripped from his lips.)

A knock on the door interrupted his musings.

“Majesties?”

Ignis.

Of course, it was.

Noctis glanced at the time, wholly unsurprised that his advisor woke them around 8 A.M. According to the schedule Ignis, without fail, taped on the bathroom mirror every Sunday, Noctis had a Council session from 9:30 A.M. to 2 P.M., then oversee a budget proposal from the Department of Education. His lunch break, always at noon, would be spent reviewing the bills and proposals introduced during the council meeting for the rebuttal period. There was an hour of tea with a few visiting dignitaries from Tenebrae. Dinner would be spent with those same dignitaries and—

Yeah.

No one would fault Noctis for wanting to spend a few more precious moments underneath his covers, pressed against the warmth of the man who was both his best friend and the love of his life. But he was the king now, and his childhood days of serial napping were long behind him.

(Not really.

Noctis still took naps whenever he could squeeze them in. They were a calming ritual at this point. Though he did find that naps longer than five hours left him disoriented and often times feeling as though he were back in the crystal, floating in a liminal space where time didn’t truly exist. Nonetheless, the only reason he wasn’t going around beheading anyone who annoyed him.

And _Astrals_, could people (read: the fucking council) be annoying.

Noctis really wonders how his father dealt with it.)

Ignis knocked again; a louder, firmer sound that made Prompto groan against the crook from Noctis’ neck. “Majesties,” Ignis repeated, “I believe it is time for you both to wake.”

Noctis’ heavy sigh floated in the air. “We’ll be out in a minute, Iggs.”

“Wonderful,” said Ignis. “Breakfast will be waiting.”

“Thanks.”

Quiet floated through the bedroom for a few more minutes. Noctis listened to the distant echo of Ignis rummaging around in the kitchen and sighed. Now that Ignis was in near proximity, they _really _wouldn’t be able to slip in a few more moments of sleep. Not when Ignis wielded a spray bottle as if it were a weapon.

Noctis would rather not get sprayed at as though he were a misbehaving kitten. 

“Prom?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

“Baby, it’s time to wake up.”

Prompto opened a bleary, sleep-stained eye and huffed. The added pout only made Noctis feel a tad bit more guilty at rousing him from his slumber. “No.”

Noctis snorted, but nonetheless gently carded his fingers through Prompto’s hair, who made a soft sigh at the touch. “I’m afraid we don’t have a choice.”

“We’re Kings,” Prompto muttered. “We can reschedule.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. While, technically, they _could _reschedule, because, you know, they were both Kings (though, if one wanted to be really technical, Prompto was _King-Consort,_ and had a whole other slew of responsibilities separate of Noctis’ that gave him a headache to think about), they couldn’t just reschedule all of their meetings because they wanted to be lazy.

Thus, it was with a resigned abandon that Noctis wiggled his arm free from under Prompto. Four seconds passed before Prompto’s half-shriek, half-laugh rippled through the quiet as he attempted a failed escape from Noctis’ relentless fingers.

*

(Here is what Ignis hears through the closed door where two of the most powerful men in Lucis sleep and unwind from stressful moments:

_“No, no, no, you MONSTER—THAT’S WHERE I’M MOST TICKLISH—!”_

_“It’s time to wake up!”_

_“I’M WANT A DIVOR—STOP TICKING ME!!” _

Over the sizzle of bacon, Ignis, remembering high school sleepovers and lazy afternoons in a building turned into a state park, laughs and thinks, _some things never change, do they?_)

*

Noctis’ day always ended to the sight of Prompto.

Whether of him walking through the door, shrugging off his suit jacket, or sitting precariously on the barstool by the island counter, chattering about the _awesome photo-op Iris and I did today_ to a humming Ignis. No matter the scene, Prompto remained a steadfast constant to Noctis’ tired gaze.

He found Prompto curled on the couch. A sitcom from their middle school days played on the TV, but it was barely a noise in Noctis’ ears. Prompto had a blanket pulled up to his ears. Noctis quirked an eyebrow in question before he leaned down, pressing a kiss against the crown of Prompto’s head. It was the only thing he could see, what with all the blankets.

“You okay, baby?”

The blanket burrito grumbled in response.

In return, Noctis turned a raised eyebrow in Iris’ direction, who idly flipped through a magazine. Flippant though she appeared, Noctis was well-aware of her hypervigilance.

“Just a stressful appointment,” Iris offered as she looked up over the glossy pages. “An intern submitted the wrong quantity for those floral centerpieces, so Prompto’s been doing damage control.”

Noctis frowned even as he ran his fingers through Prompto’s hair. He could see, rather, than feel, Prompto relax beneath his ministrations. “The intern alright?” he asked because even he was well-aware of how high-strung and stressed people could become whenever a mistake was made, however honest and genuine. “I hope they know we’re not . . . mad.”

Iris snorted lightly. “Poor thing nearly broke down right in the middle of the hallway, but, like I said, Prompto handled it—it’s just . . ..”

“Been a long day,” Noctis finished.

Iris nodded before she plopped the magazine on the coffee table, stretched, and said, “Well—I’m off. You probably know this already, but Gladio’s guarding y’all tonight.” With a wink, she added, “Try not to traumatize him _too _much. Kay?”

Noctis laughed. “We’ll do our best.”

Once Iris disappeared, Noctis picked up the protesting burrito that was his husband and settled on the couch with him. Now pressed against his chest, Prompto blew a raspberry to disrupt the quiet.

“You comfy?”

“Let’s run away to the Malmalam Thicket,” said Prompto—or, rather, the blankets.

Noctis rested his cheek against Prompto’s head. “I’m afraid we’d ignite a nationwide panic.”

Prompto groaned. Noctis bit back a laugh. Who would’ve thought he’d become the voice of reason in their relationship?

“Being a King is hard,” Prompto said after a moment. And then— “How about we go on another road trip? Let the kingdom run on its’ own for a while.”

Noctis rolled the idea around in his head and hummed. “Well, it _has _been a while since we’ve gone on vacation.”

The blanket wiggled in excitement. Noctis didn’t bother holding back his laughter at the sight. “I’ll start begging Iggy.”

Noctis snickered. “He just might say yes, if only to get you to quiet.”

“Exactly! A perfect plan!”

The sitcom switched to a rather nostalgic cartoon that stopped production back when they were ten. Noctis watched in a daze, falling in and out of sleep as Prompto’s warmth made him feel as though he were on a cloud.

Against his collarbone, Prompto murmured, just as sleep heavy and comfortable as Noctis, “We should get up. Sleep in the bed.”

Noctis only hummed and pressed Prompto closer. It was easy, falling asleep like that; the distant echo of their childhood playing behind them.

*

His back and knee made their complaints against him very, very clear the next morning. But it was worth it.

Waking up next to Prompto always was.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment/kudos if you enjoyed it! In case anyone is curious, this is, technically, a continuation of [the good side of me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19994743). 
> 
> I listened to "watch you sleep." by girl in red as I wrote this.


End file.
